The Assembly Before Departure
The Sun Gate Courtyard of Vishragarh bustled with activity from the first blush of dawn. Bronze chariot wheels gleamed in the light, rows of war elephants swayed under embroidered crimson canopies, and cavalry horses snorted clouds of steam into the cool morning air.
Shaurya stood at the courtyard's center in travel armor—light enough for movement, but adorned with Ashval's golden-tiger insignia. Around his waist hung the Vajra-Talwar, its hilt wrapped in deep maroon silk, the weapon pulsing faintly with the Adhipatya System's recognition.
Behind him waited those chosen for this diplomatic mission:
Pramila Devi — Minister of Foreign Affairs, robed in deep green with a golden sari border, eyes already scanning the road ahead as if mapping possible ambush points.
Raghunath Singh — Minister of War, clad in chainmail under a saffron surcoat, his hand never far from the hilt of his broadsword.
Acharya Somnath — High Priest, carrying the Shankha of Blessings, an heirloom said to sanctify any royal journey. His white beard was plaited and dusted with sandalwood powder.
Captain Aarav Rathod — commander of the palace guard, chosen for his loyalty and keen eye for threats. His armor was plain, but his spear had killed assassins in more courts than most soldiers had entered.
Rudrapratap's Farewell
From the palace steps, Maharaja Rudrapratap descended with measured dignity, wearing his ceremonial turban wound with gold thread. He placed a hand on Shaurya's shoulder.
Rudrapratap: "This is no ordinary visit. Nandigram is a land that smiles as it tests your resolve. Win the trust of its people as well as its princess. And remember — a king's word is only as strong as his escort."
Shaurya bowed slightly.
Shaurya: "I will return with truth in hand, and allies at my side."
The Diplomatic Caravan
The caravan was an impressive show of power:
Three war elephants, each carrying a platform draped in gold cloth, used for carrying gifts and royal symbols.
Twenty cavalry soldiers, riding in pairs with spears tipped in polished steel.
Five merchant carts loaded with tribute gifts—sandalwood chests, Kashmiri shawls, barrels of Ashval's famed saffron, and two cages holding rare albino peacocks.
A standard bearer, carrying the twin-tiger banner that fluttered in the morning wind.
Pramila ordered the formation herself, ensuring that Ashval's grandeur would be clear the moment they crossed into Nandigram.
On the Road
The route to Nandigram wound through three landscapes:
The River Plains — Green fields heavy with ripening rice. Farmers paused mid-work to bow as the caravan passed, their children darting forward to wave palm-leaf fans.
The Hill Pass of Surajkund — A narrow route carved between sheer rock faces, with a shrine to the Sun God at its highest point. Here, Acharya Somnath insisted on a brief halt for blessings.
The Outer Forest Belt — Dense sal trees rose like pillars of a natural temple, their leaves whispering in the wind.
It was here that Shaurya noticed Raghunath Singh tightening the guards' formation.
Shaurya: "You're expecting trouble this soon?"
Raghunath: "The outer forests are hunting grounds for dacoits. They don't care for treaties."
An Unexpected Escort
As the caravan neared a bend in the forest road, the sound of drums echoed through the trees. Moments later, a smaller column emerged—archers in green leather, each bearing the crest of a white deer.
At their head rode a woman with a bow taller than herself. Her armor was lacquered bamboo, her dark hair braided and tipped with silver rings.
Woman: "I am General Meenakshi, commander of the Forest Guard of Nandigram. By order of Queen-Mother Devyani, I am to escort you the rest of the way."
Her voice was strong, but her eyes flicked briefly to Shaurya—studying him with an appraisal that felt almost like a challenge.
Pramila stepped forward.
Pramila: "An honor, General. We welcome your guidance."
But Raghunath's grip on his sword hilt didn't ease.
Campfire Conversations
That night, the joint Ashval–Nandigram camp was set up by a stream. Lantern light danced off the leaves while soldiers from both kingdoms kept a wary but respectful distance from each other.
Shaurya found himself seated across from General Meenakshi at the main fire. She was sharpening her bowstring.
Shaurya: "You seem more soldier than courtier."
Meenakshi: "In Nandigram, one must be both. A courtier to survive politics, a soldier to survive everything else."
Shaurya: "And which am I speaking to now?"
Meenakshi: [smirks] "The one deciding if you're worth escorting to my queen."
First Glimpse of Nandigram
By the third day, the trees parted to reveal Nandigram's outer fortifications: tall walls of black stone overgrown with vines, flanked by watchtowers carved with images of deer and elephants. The gates were carved teak, painted with a mural of the Forest Goddess Vanadevi.
The scent of wet earth and blooming champa flowers drifted on the wind.
Meenakshi rode ahead and called back.
Meenakshi: "Welcome, Prince Shaurya of Ashval. Beyond these gates lies the Forest Kingdom. Keep your eyes open—beauty here can be sharper than any blade."
As the gates creaked open, Shaurya felt the Adhipatya System pulse again in his mind—its voice low, almost like a warning.
To Be Continued…